


Quarantine

by Dammit_Jim_Im_a_Doctor



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Christmas, Established Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Isolation, M/M, Major Illness, McSpirk Holiday Fest, Multi, Relationship(s), Sick Bones, Sickfic, Tumblr Prompt, Virus, Worried Jim, Worried Spock, jim is a bad patient, mutant virus, some sick jim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-02-22 04:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13159230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dammit_Jim_Im_a_Doctor/pseuds/Dammit_Jim_Im_a_Doctor
Summary: Andorian Ambassador Shras has requested the help of Doctor McCoy, the finest medical mind in Starfleet. It was a simple mission really: beam down to Andor; figure out the cause of the mysterious illness killing its citizens; find a cure; return home in time for Christmas. However, something goes wrong. The deadly Andorian virus has mutated and is now able to infect humans - with Bones as its first victim. Not wanting to infect the rest of the crew, Bones only has one option. Instead of celebrating Christmas with his lovers Jim and Spock, Bones is fighting for his life in Quarantine. Can the crew save the doctor who has always saved them?





	1. A small case of man flu

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr prompt as part of the McSpirk Holiday Fest:
> 
> “Bones is called down to some alien planet to help with a nasty plague during what should have been a festive holiday season aboard the Enterprise. He ends up getting infected and has to spend Christmas in quarantine. Will he make it to New Year’s?”

“Spock?” Jim’s weak voice managed to splutter out between coughs.

“Yes Jim?” Spock briefly glanced at the mass of blankets on the bed of their shared quarters, sandy hair peeking out at the bottom of the pile.

“If I don’t make it, promise me that you and Bones will take care of each other.”

“Yes, Jim,” Spock returned his gaze to his PADD, seemingly dismissive of his lover’s request.

“Spock! I’m telling you my dying wish, you could at least -“ Jim’s complaints were interrupted as a cold washcloth was unceremoniously dumped on his forehead, the icy water dripping into his eyes and mouth.

“Bones!” He yelped, knocking the cloth to the floor as a few more coughs escaped. “Remember that bedside manner thing we discussed? You should treat a dying man with more respect!”

“Jim,” Bones warned, retrieving the washcloth and returning it to the younger man’s head, albeit more gently this time. “How many times do I have to tell you? You are not dying, you have the goddamn flu.”

“You took me out of sickbay, it’s clearly terminal.”

“The flu is viral. Other than treating your symptoms, we just have to wait it out. You don’t need to take up space in my sickbay. Besides, if I didn’t bring you back to our room and let you recover here, you may have actually died at the hands of Nurse Chapel. You are seriously the worst patient.”

“You know,” Spock chimed in, “the human language is fascinating, and there are still many phrases and nuances I have yet to comprehend. However, having spent the last few days with Jim, I finally understand the term ‘man flu’.” Bones laughed as he prepared the hypo, and Jim responded by throwing a few snotty tissues at the Vulcan.

“I hate you both,” he mumbled, further cocooning himself in the blankets. “I open my heart to you both in what I thought were my final moments and you respond with mockery.”

Rolling his eyes and letting out a chuckle, Bones ran the tricorder over the pathetic lump, stealing a quick kiss on his fever-flushed cheek. “And we love you for that. You just need to accept that although you’re feeling like crap, you’re not dying.”

His attention became momentarily focused on the beeping tricorder, indicating the results of the scan were ready. He read the summary and glanced back at Jim with a smile, “See, already an improvement. Temperature is below a hundred and your lungs are clearer. You should be back to normal in no time.” Before Jim could accuse the doctor of lying, or that his “machine” was faulty, the hypo was injected into his neck.

“Ow! A little warning next time?” He whined as Bones placed a small plaster on the site.

“And give you the opportunity to bury yourself deeper under the covers to avoid it? I’m already running late for my shift, I don’t have time to wrestle you out of your blanket fort. It’s done now. Anyway, Spock has agreed to stay in the room with you and work from his desk while I’m on shift. Don’t argue with him and do as he says. Get some sleep for now.”  
Jim merely groaned in response, already feeling the sedating effects of the medicine. Bones placed another kiss on his cheek and stroked his hair, smiling fondly as the younger man visibly relaxed and leaned into his touch.

It wasn’t long before Jim’s breathing evened out and soft snores could be heard. Bones carefully removed the washcloth and excess blankets that were no doubt worsening his fever (although try explaining that to a petulant Jim) and plopped them on the floor next to the bed. 

“I swear Spock, this adorable idiot is going to be the death of me,” he groaned as he approached the desk at the other side of the room.

Spock smirked and stood from his seat as Bones reached him, pulling the other man into an embrace. “You’re doing just fine, Leonard. Let me deal with him for the rest of the day.”

Bones snorted and finally pulled back from the hug, despite wanting to be held for the rest of the morning. “Alright, but any problems, you call me. I better get going or Christine’s gonna have my ass - relax Spock, it’s a figure of speech.” 

“Of course, I knew that,” Spock said, despite his blushes as the tension left his body. With a chuckle, Bones gave him one final hug and a passionate kiss, before reluctantly leaving their shared quarters to start his shift.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

Doctor Nalder exited the isolation unit and made his way to the main hospital. With his gaze focused forward, he quickened his pace and paid no heed to anything or anyone in his path. Staff, visitors and even patients leapt out of his way, unnerved by the doctor’s somber yet determined expression as he half-walked, half-ran across the grounds and through the hospital corridors. He tried calling for the elevator, but as the numbers indicated that there were still three floors to descend, he let out a frustrated growl and instead headed for the stairwell, bounding up two at a time to the eighth floor. Barging through the maze of corridors and undoubtedly injuring the shoulders of two unfortunate doctors unknowingly standing in his path, Doctor Nalder finally reached his office. Dismissing his secretary, he fell into his seat and logged into his computer. He rapidly opened up the video calling software and dialled the number, fingers moving almost too quickly for the software to keep up with.

“Come on, come on!” He cried after one ring, panic rising in his chest.

“Ambassador Shras’ office, how can I help you?” A voice chirped from the young Andorian that appeared on screen.

“Put me through to the Ambassador immediately.”

“Do you have an appointment? The Ambassador doesn’t - "

“I don’t have time for this! Tell him this is Doctor Nalder from the City General Hospital and we are dealing with a national emergency!”

“Um… alright, one moment please!” The face of the Ambassador’s secretary disappeared from view, replaced with a holding screen. It could only have been about 30 seconds before the Ambassador finally appeared on screen, but to Doctor Nalder it felt like hours.

“Nalder,” the Ambassador spoke through gritted teeth. “This better be important, I was in the middle of a - "

“Sorry Ambassador Shras, but this really cannot wait!” With a sigh, the Ambassador nodded and waved his hand to indicate that the doctor should continue.

“Did you receive the memo I sent last week, regarding the recent influx of patients displaying unusual symptoms?”

“Yes, the unidentified illness affecting 12 individuals. Uncontrollable bleeding and organ failure?”

“That’s right. Those patients are now deceased and we have no idea why.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I don’t see -“

“There are more infected. We have just admitted our 68th patient this week.” The Ambassador’s eyes widened and he dropped his hands from his face. He leaned further towards the screen, focusing entirely on the man in front of him.

“That’s not possible. What kind of illness spreads that quickly?”

“Dammit, I don’t know! That’s why I’m calling you. Every doctor in this hospital is working on this case, and I’ve called upon every expert I know. Nobody has ever seen anything like this before, and there are no records of such an illness in the history of Andoria. We can’t identify the source either - it doesn’t appear to be aerosolized, but it has to be something accessible by a large volume of people. Our isolation wards are almost full and we’re losing most patients we see. We estimate a mortality rate of 94%, given the numbers we have so far. Please, Ambassador, you must have connections? Someone who can help?”

“I doubt there are more Andorian doctors I can call that you have not already consulted. I may have to make some off-planet calls. Enlist the help of my contacts in the Federation. I will be in touch as soon as I have answers.” The Ambassador prepared to hang up, when Doctor Nalder spoke once more.

“Thank you. But don’t take too long - at this rate, there won’t be anyone left on Andoria by the end of the year.”


	2. A little festive cheer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim's health is improving and insists on preparing the ship for Christmas. However, his plans are interrupted by a panicked phone call from Ambassador Shras.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely reviews! Glad you're enjoying the story so far! I did spot that I called the planet Andor instead of Andoria, but this has since been corrected :) 
> 
> I wasn't 100% certain about some aspects of this chapter, but I think it's a nice little introduction to the Hell that's about to break loose ;) I'm working through the next section, but it might be a bit longer for the next chapter to be uploaded as I'll be with family over the New Year period. But I shall do my best to get it to you as swiftly as possible! 
> 
> Much love!

Bones practically ran out of sickbay when his seemingly eternal shift finally came to an end. He’d lost count of the number of snotty noses and red, phlegm-covered throats he had to endure, assuring the crewmen that they’d simply fallen victim to a mild flu and weren’t in fact dying of pneumonia. As much as he loved their pit-stops at various Federation colonies, the range of diseases the crew would inevitably encounter would spread like wildfire aboard an enclosed spaceship. The first few weeks back aboard the Enterprise would always be busy for the medical team, and this time was no exception. However, Bones was grateful that the only microorganism picked up as a souvenir during their winter break was the annual flu strain, as opposed to the norovirus someone generously brought back a few years previously. The flu was an irritation, but certainly a lot less messy, and manageable amongst a crew of fit Starfleet personnel. 

Although, as he made his way along the Enterprise corridors, he was about to return to the worst flu patient he had ever encountered. James Kirk could brush off a serious injury as a mere scratch or bruise, but will dust off his knuckles in preparation for knocking on death’s door at the tiniest sniffle. Still, at least Bones had Spock to help him deal with the endless Kirk whining. He reached their shared quarters (originally Bones’ own - he needed to remain close to sickbay) in a little under five minutes. Before he could finish entering the keycode, the door slid open to reveal a wide-eyed Spock. 

“Jesus Spock, you scared me! Wait, what’s wrong?” the panicked look on the normally stoic Vulcan’s face was more than a little unnerving. Assuming the worst, Bones reached for his medkit, but his progress was halted by Spock’s hand on his arm.

“Jim is fine, Leonard. His fever broke completely a couple of hours after you left this morning. The medicine and adequate rest have worked wonders, and other than the occasional cough and persistent nasal mucus, I would say he has pretty much returned to full health.”

Relieved, Bones returned his hands to his sides and looked up at Spock with a puzzled expression. “So… what’s the problem?”

“It’s December. Jim is awake and feeling far better. Do you understand?”

Bones remained dumbfounded, until realisation finally hit. His expression soon mirrored Spock’s, who nodded in confirmation. 

“Oh no. He’s not -”

“Bones! Oh good, you’re back!” Jim chirped, motioning for his boyfriends to come into the room. “Now that I’m no longer stuck in bed, it’s about damn time we decorated this place. Bones, I don’t know why you stored the tree and decorations in the ceiling panels when there was a perfectly good storage cupboard, but I finally found them! You get the lights detangled, you’re good with your hands. Spock, come and help me assemble the tree!” With an excited clap and a hop from Jim, a sigh from Spock and exasperated groan from Bones, the three men settled down to a night of festive preparations.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

The following morning didn’t provide much in the way of a reprieve for Spock or Bones. Jim’s alarm dragged them from their slumber at 5am - with Bones colourfully questioning why and when he had set the “damn thing” so early - and the far-too-chipper young man hurried them into their uniforms. Apparently, decorating their quarters had not been enough, and Jim was on a mission to brighten up the Bridge before everyone arrived for their shifts. Spock had agreed, if only to finally get the chance to leave the room and return to the Bridge with a relatively healthy Jim. Bones took a little more encouragement - however, 2 cups of coffee and a bagel later (as well as some of Jim’s more “irresistible” methods of persuasion), he soon followed his partners to the Bridge.

In just over two hours, their task was complete. Tinsel wound its way around the doorway, chairs and levers, and various ornaments dangled above the consoles. Jim insisted that the placement of the mistletoe directly above his chair was completely accidental, that the beam above happened to be at the right height. Behind Jim’s chair, an immaculately decorated, seven-foot pine towered over the rail, despite protestations of its potential hazards. As Bones had vehemently refused the “demonic” singing-and-dancing Father Christmas toy being placed in their room, it instead made a home in the centre of the navigation and flight control panel. 

“Chekov’s either gonna love that thing, or it’s gonna give him nightmares. My money’s on the latter,” Bones grumbled, glaring at the offending item. Before Jim could respond, the door to the Bridge opened and Uhura, Scotty, Sulu and Chekov stepped inside, having come up together from breakfast.

“What in fresh Hell is this?” Cried Uhura as a stray sprig of holly scratched her arm.

“I see the Keptin’s better now. Thank you, sir!” A bright-eyed Chekov practically squealed with excitement.

“Aye sir, glad tae see ye’re feeling better. Even if ye turned this place intae a tacky shop windae...” Scotty said as he poked at a few baubles.

“Hey, this place needed some festive cheer,” Jim shrugged, seemingly unaffected by his colleague’s distaste. He looked over to Chekov, grinning at the young man’s enthusiasm and childlike excitement. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the senior crew took their seats and prepared for the morning staff meeting as normal, none having the heart to mention that the decor was quickly becoming an unwelcome hinderance. Bones was relieved that he could at least return to sickbay later that morning and escape Santa’s grotto. 

Over the next hour, the group updated Jim with all that had happened during his absence. This mostly consisted of describing the cover arranged for afflicted crew members, and Bones ranting about the overtime he has to provide his overworked staff. As this meeting neared its end, Uhura was alerted to an incoming call. After a brief exchange, she turned to Jim.

“Captain, Ambassador Shras of Andoria requests a consolation with yourself and Doctor McCoy. He says it’s an emergency.”

Jim and Bones exchanged puzzled glances. “Put him on,” he responded, turning to face the screen. Moments later, the Ambassador’s face appeared.

“Ambassador, this is indeed an honour. How may we be of assistance?”

“Captain Kirk, I appreciate you answering my call. Is Doctor McCoy with you?” 

Bones stepped next to the Captain’s chair and cleared his throat. “Yes, sir, I’m Doctor McCoy. I assume you are calling regarding a medical emergency?”

“Indeed Doctor. A crisis has emerged on my planet. Patients are dying and no Andorian doctor or disease expert can explain it. I contacted Starfleet for advice, and informed me that the Enterprise is not only travelling close to Andoria, but has on board the Fleet’s finest Chief Medical Officer.” Bones couldn’t help but blush at the compliment, while Jim and Spock both beamed with pride. “I hear you are an expert in xenobiology, very knowledgeable on infectious diseases and highly skilled at developing novel treatments.”

“You are correct, Ambassador. Doctor McCoy is the finest doctor I know and an asset to our team,” Jim interjected, suspecting Bones’ modesty may jump in to downplay his brilliance.

“What exactly do you need from me?” Bones asked, trying to mask his discomfort from the excessive praise.

“Will you come to Andoria and assess the situation? Your assistance would be invaluable. Without it, I fear this disease may wipe out our population.”

“If the Captain is amenable, I’d be happy to help in any way I can. Can you give me any information on the disease and patients?”

“I have a detailed report from the doctor leading this case, I will transfer it to you immediately. Captain, do I have your permission to borrow your CMO?”

With slight hesitation, Jim nodded. “Of course. We will set a course for Andoria immediately, and I’ll have Doctor McCoy beamed down to the planet as soon as we are in orbit. Can you send us the exact coordinates for the hospital along with your report?”

“Yes, Captain. Thank you both. Over,” the Ambassador swiftly ended the call. An uncomfortable silence soon filled the room.

“How far are we from Andoria?” Jim asked, eyes still fixed on the screen ahead. 

Chekov checked the navigation panel. “Many light years, Keptin. However, at warp 8, we could reach ze planet in approximately four hours, sir.”

“Thank you, Chekov. Mr Sulu, once you receive the coordinates, set a course and take the ship to warp 8,” Jim instructed, still not moving his gaze from the screen.

“Sir,” Sulu confirmed, stealing a nervous glance at the young man to his right. Moments later, Uhura received the coordinates from Ambassador Shras and alerted the crew. Sulu and Chekov entered the coordinates, and with Jim’s approval, took the ship to warp-factor 8.

“Doctor McCoy, I have sent the report from the Ambassador to your PAAD,”added Uhura.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Guess I should head to my office and prepare myself,” Bones said a brief farewell to the crew and left the Bridge, closely followed by Jim. Once they were in the elevator, Jim finally spoke.

“Are you sure you want to do this Bones? It sounds dangerous.” 

Bones sighed. “It wasn’t how I planned to spend the next couple of weeks, but what choice do I have? If there is even a slight chance that I can help, I need to be there - I can’t let an entire species die.”

Jim groaned and buried his face into the older man’s chest, snaking his arms around his waist. “I know, Bones. But this thing is killing people, what if you get sick?”

Bones returned the embrace and rested his chin atop Jim’s head. “Humans have a significantly different physiology to Andorians. Even without protection, the chances of me catching anything are slim to none. But I will take every precaution available. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

Jim nodded against Bones’ chest, before pulling back and looking him in the eyes. “Alright. But at least promise me you’ll be back in time for Christmas?”

Bones laughed, “wouldn’t dream of missing it, darlin'.” Satisfied, Jim leaned forward and gave him a long, deep kiss, only stopping when the elevator came to a halt and opened its doors.


	3. Preparing for departure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this has taken so long! But with the festivities, returning to work and illness, I barely had the time to work on this. I was hoping to be further along, but I'd rather give you guys a little more to read as you've waited long enough already. I'll be working on it every opportunity I get, but I do have a busy month ahead and my health hasn't returned to it's usual state yet, so if there is another delay before the next chapter, I'm so so sorry! I hope it will be worth the wait! The next stage will be Doctor McCoy in action, with danger looming nearby. I've wanted to get right into the drama, so I'm very excited for it to be coming so soon! Not that domestic fluff isn't fun of course ;) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter! Please let me know if there are any errors or bits you don't like, I'm open to editing this chapter! I hope it won't be too long until I join you again :D 
> 
> Note: for knowledgeable fans, I know that Andoria is technically a moon from which the Andorian's originate. But I think for a community to inhabit and thrive there, it deserves the honorary title of planet, even if it technically isn't classified as one. I hope that doesn't annoy people, but I think it just makes more sense to call it a planet.

Reluctantly, Jim returned to the Bridge and left Bones to his preparations. After a brief stop-off at their quarters to pack some clothes suitable for the icy climate and potentially long stay, Bones headed to sickbay. Before he could read through the medical report from Andoria, he had to ensure that everything would be taken care of on the Enterprise in his absence. The timing was less than ideal, what with the pressures already put on the medical staff, but he was confident in their ability to handle strain. En route to his office, he asked Nurse Chapel to find Doctor M’Benga and join him for an emergency meeting. Less than ten minutes later, the three colleagues were seated around Bones’ desk.

 

“Sorry to interrupt your morning,” Bones began, “but we have a bit of an emergency on our hands. We received a distress call from the Andorian Ambassador, and the planet is in desperate need of our assistance. I haven’t had a chance to take a full look at the report, but whatever disease is afflicting the citizens is spreading rapidly and killing almost everyone it infects. No medical professional that they’ve contacted on the planet has encountered any such disease before, so they reached out to Starfleet for any help we can provide.”

 

“But Len, we’re short-staffed as it is - I don’t know if we’ll be able to spare enough bodies for such a mission,” warned Geoff.

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t be taking a team. They have ample man-power down there, and I fear a large team of us would be more of a hindrance than a help. Besides, we don’t know what we are dealing with. I refuse to expose more people to whatever this disease is than necessary. I will be beaming down alone and will liaise with you as and when required. Assuming there will be more than adequate laboratory facilities, I will run all necessary tests planet-side and send up the results through the computer. As long as someone is available to pick up my comms, there shouldn’t be much disruption to your normal workloads.”

 

“God Len, you want to go down there alone?” cried Christine. “Surely one of us could join you, and perhaps a couple from security?”

 

“Chris has a point, Len. We never do solo missions, you always gotta have back-up,” Geoff agreed.

 

“Absolutely not. The safety of this crew is top priority here, I can’t take that risk. Unless it is essential for more than one person to beam down, I will not authorise any crewman to join me there.”

 

“But you’d willingly risk your own life?” countered Christine.

 

“Yes. They asked for me specifically, and until I know more, they will only be getting me down there. End of discussion.” He glared purposefully at his two colleagues, emphasising that his decision was final. Reluctantly, both nodded in agreement and backed down.

 

“While I’m gone, I’m gonna need you both to take care of things up here. I can’t say how long I’ll be down there, but we’re talking days, or even weeks, rather than hours. Geoff, you will be acting CMO in my absence. The remaining shifts for this week will need to be rearranged, but otherwise I think everything’s in order. Between the two of you, I’m certain you can run this team for the foreseeable future. Any questions?”

 

Both shook their heads, neither wishing to voice further objections to their boss’ plan.

 

“Excellent. I’ll be reporting to the Bridge once a day, but for general lab queries I’d rather contact the medbay directly. Jim will send out a communication to the whole crew, but you might want to chat with the team so they know to look out for my messages.”

 

“I’ll make sure they’re informed and prepared,” said Geoff, rising from his chair. “Look, I’ve got surgery scheduled soon, so I’ll have to go. But I’ll make sure everything is taken care of afterwards. If I don’t see you before you head off… good luck, Leonard.” He extended an arm to Bones, who clasped the offered hand. As they shook hands, a brief and knowing glance was exchanged.

 

_Please be careful, Leonard,_ the glance said, as worried eyes met with Leonard’s own. He returned a reassuring smile, before Dr M’Benga turned and left the office.

 

Christine broke the ensuing silence. “How have Jim and Spock reacted to this?”

 

Bones sighed, “Jim’s definitely concerned, and I know he was reluctant to accept the Ambassador’s request. I honestly don’t know how Spock feels - we haven’t had the chance to talk about it. I’ll speak to them both before I beam down. Chris, would ya check on them while I’m gone?”

 

“I was planning to. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

 

Bones thought for a moment. “Actually, one more thing. I want us to be extra vigilant on this occasion. This could be a serious biological hazard, and the crew needs to be protected. On my return, I must be beamed to the decontamination suite and under no circumstances will anyone be allowed near me until I have been cleared. I need you to ensure that suite will be ready - along with Ward 595.”

 

Christine grimaced at the thought. “They’ll be prepared. But you better not need that Ward.”

 

Bones had to agree.

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

The pair made an attempt at casual small talk for the minutes that followed, but the surrounding tension was too overwhelming. Nurse Chapel soon made her excuses, pulled Bones into a quick embrace, and left to her duties.

 

Finally alone, Bones opened the report from Ambassador Shras and examined the notes. After reading through the each case and the observations of the doctors on site, he recorded his thoughts:

 

“In general, patients seemed to follow the same pattern of symptoms. For the first couple of days, patients experience flu-like symptoms - high fevers, chills, various aches and pains and a feeling of general malaise. Breathing difficulties soon follow, with abnormal fluid accumulation and swelling, a rapidly spreading rash and ‘blue eye’ - which I assume must be the Andorian equivalent of the human condition ‘’pink eye’. During this decline, some patients were noted to have experienced delirium, seizures and even psychotic episodes. Their condition soon worsens and enters the penultimate phase - haemorrhaging. Internal or external, a patient will experience some degree of severe bleeding. A lucky few eventually improved, but were left weak and in chronic pain. However, most succumbed to the disease, with prolonged bleeding, convulsions, shock, coma and death. The whole process takes a matter of days, and it’s spreading fast. 68 patients admitted in just over a week! Doctor Nalder insists that this thing isn’t airborne, but how is it infecting this many patients at such a rate?”

 

His thoughts were interrupted by two individuals entering his office, without so much as a knock.

 

“Apologies for the intrusion Leonard, but we estimate an arrival at Andoria in 30 minutes,” stated Spock, standing a little too formally in front of his desk.

 

“Translation - we would like a little time to say goodbye to our favourite doctor before his mission,” the captain’s voice piped up from beside the Vulcan. Bones laughed and packed away his PADD and communicator, allowing him to join his lovers without distraction.

 

“I appreciate the visit. I was hoping to see you both before I left.”

 

“Seriously Bones? Do you think there was any chance of you leaving without seeing the two of us?”

 

“No of course not. I meant see you both, _alone_ … no Jim, not alone in that sense.” The flirtatious smirk fell from Jim’s face.

 

“Leonard,” Spock said seriously. “I took the liberty of obtaining a copy of the medical report from Admiral Shras. This disease is serious. I don’t think it is safe for you to go. I suggest that you remain on board and I go in your place -”

 

“No,” Bones interrupted. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I have to be down there.”

 

“Then would you at least allow me to accompany you?”

 

“Woah! If Spock’s going down with you, then I’m coming too!” argued Jim, with his voice raised.

 

“Easy there, Wonderboy. I’ve already had this argument with Chris and Geoff and I don’t want to waste time arguing with you two. I understand that you are both worried, and I can’t deny that I’m a little uneasy about the situation myself. But I absolutely must go down there alone. The more people exposed to the pathogen increases the risk of spreading it to the crew. As unlikely as it is that humans can be infected, even a minute risk is still a risk. Not to mention that we have at least 3 new recruits that are part-Andorian who would be in danger. Besides, neither of you are trained in dealing with category 4 pathogens and biohazard safety, and I ain’t dealing with the paperwork should either of you get sick,” he ended on a lighthearted note, in a hope to calm their fears. Neither man laughed.

 

Bones sighed. “I’m touched that you want to come with me, and in any other situation I’d have you there by my side. I just can’t do it in this case. In a medical emergency, or if a decision is required based on medical fact, I as Chief Medical Officer have authority - even over you, Jim. Don’t force me to make this official and order you to stay behind.”

 

Accepting defeat, Jim and Spock both nodded.

 

“Alright Bones, you don’t have order us. At least, not professionally,” Jim wiggled his eyebrows, but received a light smack on the back of his head from Spock in return. The three men laughed, and spent the remaining time they had together in light conversation, neither one daring to mention Bones’ imminent departure.

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************

 

A comm from Sulu informed them that they had arrived at Andoria. Despite his protests, Bones found himself walking to the transporter room empty handed, as Spock and Jim carried his belongings. On arrival, he quickly slipped into his Fleet-issue snowsuit, goggles and gloves, ready to face the freezing temperatures on the planet’s surface. After a swift but tender hug and kiss to each of Spock and Jim, he retrieved his belongings and stepped onto the transporter pad.

 

“Comm us when you get to the hospital, Bones,” Jim asked, surprisingly maintaining his composure as he clasped onto Spock’s hand. “And be careful.”

 

“I concur, Leonard. Take care of yourself. Your safety is of the utmost importance.” Bones couldn’t help but notice the slight change in pitch in Spock’s voice, indicating a rare display of emotion. He smiled at them fondly, a wave of emotion coming over him too.

 

“I will. I’ll be back as soon as I can - it’ll be over before you know it!” he reassured. “Right, I need to get going. I’ll talk to you soon. Ready to beam, Mr Scott.”

 

“Aye, Doctor!” the Scotsman replied, initiating the transporter sequence. Bones kept his eyes fixed on Spock and Jim as his body dematerialized, and theirs were similarly fixed on him. Jim felt the hand closed over his squeezing a little tighter as their lover disappeared from view.


	4. The Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you so much for your patience, it's been a nightmare to try and get some time to write! It's not the longest chapter ever, but I'd rather you had a little more to see than nothing at all. Next chapter we will meet some patients and come closer to finding the origin of this mystery disease!
> 
> I want to say an extra special thank you to everyone who has left me a review. You are all so kind and it really warms my heart and motivates me to keep writing, which is something I love to do! I'm sorry for not replying to you all, but know that I have seen your kind words and truly appreciate them. When I can, I will try to reply to you all individually, but possibly after I have written some more. I will try to get some more writing in each evening, and get a large chunk done at the weekend. 
> 
> Until next time, enjoy! :)

As soon as Bones rematerialised on the planet surface, he let out gasp and desperately grasped for his snowsuit in an attempt to pull it tighter around his body. The raging winds tore against what little skin remained exposed, the minute ice particles piercing flesh with each contact. Transferring his bags to his left hand, he used his right hand to shield the lower half of his face and observed the scenery. Unfortunately, he was surrounded by a never-ending white wilderness, with no obvious path to civilisation. He flicked the switch on his in-ear communicator before swiftly returning his hand to shield his face. 

“Someone better tell me where the Hell I’m going, or else I’m going to end up stuck in a snowdrift,” he shouted, voice almost lost to the wind.

“Hold on a sec, Bones. The weather is interfering with your tracker and we’re struggling to get your signal. Scotty’s working on it!” Jim responded, a little too chirpily for his liking. 

“Dammit Jim, I’m freezing my balls off here! Shouldn’t we have tracking devices that work? It’s the 23rd century, you’d think we’d’ve figured out WEATHER by now!” Jim turned down the volume on the console as Bones continued to complain. 

“Jim, why are you silencing Leonard?” Spock whispered.

“You know what he’s like when he rants, it’s not like he’s expecting us to listen,” Jim whispered back, frowning as Spock turned the volume up again.

“Hello? Dammit Jim, you muted me again, didn’t you?”

“How the - never mind. Look, relax, it’ll be fixed soon.”

“See how relaxed you are with frostbite on your family jewels,” Bones muttered, sensing Jim’s eye roll. 

“Gotcha, ya beauty!” Scotty cried. “Right Doctor, sending yer signal through to the bridge. Young navigator Chekov will direct ye. I believe that Ambassador sent a map, or directions, or -”

“Yes, thank you Mr Scott, can you put me through to Chekov?”

“Oh right, yeah, doing it now.”

“Talk to you soon Bones!” Jim managed to slip in before the call was transferred. After a few moments, the Russian Ensign was soon on the line. 

“Hello Doctor! You only hev a ten minute walk. I see that you are facing North already, so you vant to maintain that direction. Keep going straight ahead, I vill let you know ven there are a couple of left turns. Zen you will reach ze hospital.”

“Easier said than done, Chekov. If I go North, I’m gonna have to walk against the wind. And walking into this wind is as simple as diving into zero-gravity.”

“He means the wind is strong and it’s hard to walk,” Sulu explained to the confused man next to him.

“I vish he wouldn’t speak een riddles,” Chekov whispered, being sure to cover the microphone. 

“Chekov, you read me?” Bones called when the young man didn’t respond.

“Oh yes, sorry Doctor. I am afraid you will have to walk ze difficult way, or you vill never reach ze place.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Right, walking forward now, it’s too bloody cold to stand here any longer. I’m leaving my earpiece on, but I’m going to limit what I say - it’s getting harder to keep the wind from my mouth. Tell me when I need to make a turn. Over,” Bones moved the mic away from his mouth, pulled his hood as far forward as it would go and started walking ahead. He turned his head slightly towards the ground - enough to protect his bare skin from the worst of the icy winds, but not enough to obscure his vision. 

*******************************************************************************************************

Despite the force of the wind, the depth of the snow and the weight of his suit and belongings, he was keeping a good pace, and with Chekov’s navigation, he made it to the city in a little over twenty minutes. Fortunately, the hospital was located in the outskirts, and a few minutes after his arrival, he found himself walking through the hospital doors. Saying his farewells to the crew once more, he removed the communicator and his goggles, and approached the reception desk.

“Ah, you must be Doctor McCoy!” the receptionist exclaimed. “Let me just call Doctor Nalder. If you’d like to take a seat, he should be with you shortly.” With a nod and a thanks, Bones seated himself at the wall opposite the reception desk, unceremoniously dropping his bags on the ground. He was thoroughly exhausted from the walk, and made a mental note to request a pick up from a closer location. It felt like he had barely sat down when a short, plump Andorian in green scrubs stood in front of him. 

“It’s a pleasure, McCoy. I’m Doctor Nalder,” Nalder said as he held out his hand. Suppressing a groan, Bones stood from the comfort of his chair and shook the man’s hand.   
“Please, call me Leonard,” he replied politely.

“Then you must call me Reginald. However, let us exchange further pleasantries later. Let’s head on down to the lab so that you can get set up. Do you need any help with your things?”

“Nah I got it, but thank you. Please, lead on,” Bones retrieved his belongings from the ground and followed the doctor. They took the special-access elevator down to the basement level, and walked down a long corridor filled with multiple, small laboratories. 

“Does everyone have their own lab?” Bones questioned in awe, being used to hospitals with only a few,  larger laboratories. 

Doctor Nalder laughed. “Not quite, Leonard. Over the years, our little planet has become quite the tourist attraction. This city has buildings designed to imitate a variety of climates to accommodate the numerous species that visit us. Of course, different species in the city means different species in the hospital. We therefore had to set up a variety of laboratories suitable for storing the various samples. The basement once contained a series of offices, so it was simpler and cheaper to convert them into individual labs and install our old equipment, rather than purchasing various pieces of expensive, specialised equipment to store the samples. It’s not the ideal scenario, but as I’m sure you are aware, Andorians are quite capable of adapting to a range of climates, so the rooms themselves will not pose a danger to our lab technicians.”

“Fascinating,” Bones mumbled, an unfortunate habit picked up from Spock. “Does that mean that I will be working in the room adapted to an Andorian climate?”

“Fortunately, humans and Andorians have very similar climates. Our home planets have an atmosphere with an almost identical composition of gases, and the atmospheric pressure is the same. The only real difference between our planets is the core temperature - the standard climate for us would match that of the Arctic Tundras on your Earth. Therefore, we have a laboratory set up for you that will be perfectly comfortable for humans, and a simple freezer to store any biological samples at the appropriate temperature.”

“Thank goodness for that,” said a relieved and shivering Bones. “I don’t think my body could handle several days at this temperature.”

Doctor Nalder chuckled. “Don’t worry, I would never force someone who offered to help us to work in an uncomfortable environment. Right, here we are!” He stopped in front of a glass door at the end of the basement corridor. He opened the door and led Bones inside. “I hope that this will be satisfactory.”

“This will be just fine.” Bones glanced around the small room. It contained very basic equipment, but satisfactory for any essential tests. Besides, he brought a lot of his own equipment and can access the Enterprise mainframe if necessary.

“Perfect. I will leave you to set yourself up. I’ll have my secretary come down and collect your personal bag and check you into the hotel next door. Then, meet me at reception in about 30 minutes and I’ll take you to my office where we can discuss the case.” With one more handshake, Doctor Nalder left Bones to unpack and check out his temporary “office”. 

 

*******************************************************************************************

 

A short while later, both men were seated in Doctor Nalder’s office (which was fortunately set to a comfortable temperature), discussing the case notes and viewing the latest lab reports. 

“Leonard, never before have we seen anything like this in Andoria. Since we contacted you, we’ve seen eleven more deaths and fourteen new cases. Please tell me you have a theory?” Nalder pleaded, clearly distressed. 

“As a matter of fact, I do. But before I draw any firm conclusions, I need to check something. You say that you are confident that we are dealing with a virus. Have any of your lab techs been able to isolate any organisms?”

“Not quite. We have been able to obtain an electron microscopic image of a cluster of viral particles in a patient blood sample. But when we tried to grow the organism in cell culture, it killed every cell line we tested. Andorian or animal.” Nalder handed Bones a black-and-white photograph. “Is this something you’ve seen before?”

Bones examined the image. In amongst the spherical blood cells were several tubular particles with looped structures at one end. It was reminiscent of an earthworm, but one while had a knot tied at one end to create a ring-loop tail. 

“Yes, Reginald. This virus is very similar - both in structure and resulting symptoms - to the human filoviruses. These are a family of viruses that cause severe haemorrhagic fevers in humans. But there are two things bothering me in this case. One is obviously that these are human diseases that have not yet been identified in any alien species before, so how did your planet become infected? The second issue is the transmission. I’m going to need background information on every patient you have here. Hopefully this will tell me where the disease originated. If we can identify the source, we can hopefully reduce future cases, and give me enough time to develop a drug or an antiserum to treat the afflicted. I’d also like to run a few of my own tests on some of your patients at various stages of the disease. If you haven’t done so already, put out a warning to members of the public - anyone who is displaying any of the early symptoms needs to be isolated and tested. Can you arrange this for me?”

Doctor Nalder nodded. “Right away, Leonard. Collect whatever equipment you need whilst I make some calls. Meet me at the entrance in fifteen minutes and I’ll take you to the isolation ward.” 

“Right, see you soon.” With that, Bones stood from his seat and left the office.

_ Looks as though this will take no time at all,  _ he thought happily, as he made his way back down to the basement to collect his medkit. 


	5. Isolation Ward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So real life came along and took away my free time, so I haven't had a chance to write. So sorry! This chapter isn't as long as I'd hoped, but I'd rather give you something while I have it. And it contains a key moment for the progression of the story, so I thought sharing would be wise ;) I'm going to get as much as I can done in the next couple of weeks so that you won't have to wait as long for the next chapter. Thank you for your patience! 
> 
> Also, I greatly appreciate all of the kind reviews you have left! I will try and respond to you all eventually, but know that I have read your words, and your questions will be answered! Your reviews make me so happy and motivate me to write, so thank you so much! :)

Despite assurances from Doctor Nalder that this particular disease wasn’t airborne and that there was little to no risk to humans, Bones insisted on putting on a full biohazard suit as well as the others.

“Can’t be too careful,” he insisted. Once they were properly protected, they entered the isolation ward. The sight that met Bones was heartbreaking. Every available bed in the ward was filled, and staff had even resorted to using trolleys, surgery tables and even stretchers as substitutes for the excess patients. Nurses and doctors ran between patients frantically, unable to do more than relieve pain, sustain fluids and provide comfort. Patients were crying and screaming from the immense pain, and their blue blood soiled their clothing and bedding. Patient age apparently had no effect on the disease - both young and old, frail and previously healthy were stricken. Soon, Bones took little notice of the other patients when he spotted one at the back of the room. The patient was a young Andorian boy of around 8. He was crying and begging for his mother, but no one paid attention to his pleas.

“The kid. Are his family here?” Bones managed to ask. Doctor Nalder looked to where Bones eyes were staring, and let out a sigh.

“Ah, poor thing. This is Raphael. He came in with his parents - both passed the other day. He doesn’t know and we don’t have the heart to tell him. I doubt he has long left. We’ve given him pain medication and have him attached to an IV of fluids, but he already had a weak immune system before he got sick. We’re surprised he has lasted this long to be honest.”

“Can’t someone give him some damn comfort?” Bones asked angrily, wondering why not even one person would sit with him.

“Leonard, we’re overrun as it is. We are doing our best, but we can’t comfort every patient.”

“This is different, Reg. This is a scared child. I can’t sit by and watch this. You start talking to the other patients and get some background information - where they live, where they work, if they know anyone else who is sick, their family, their friends… whatever you can find out. I’ll join you in a while, but first…” his voice drifted off as the child’s eyes met with his own. The boy, having finally been noticed, reached an arm out to Bones and cried out. Without a second thought, Bones was by his side in an instant. He took hold of the child’s hand and stroked his hair. Raphael tried to move, desperate to cling onto Bones, but Bones gently placed his hand on his chest to stop him.

“No, Raphael. Don’t move.” Instead, he perched himself onto the side of the bed. He pulled one leg up and left the other firmly on the ground. He then gently maneuvered Raphael so that his head was resting atop Bones’ thigh. He then pulled the blanket lightly around the child and held onto the outstretched hand, while using his other hand to stroke the boy’s hair. He muttered words of comfort and the boy’s breathing soon evened out. A few minutes later, Bones felt the hand in his go limp. At first, he thought the boy was sleeping, but he no longer saw the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath. He swiftly moved him back onto the bed and stood, checking for a pulse. He felt nothing.

“I need some help over here!” Bones called out. Nalder and one of the nurses rushed to his side as Bones started chest compressions.  

They attempted resuscitation for a few minutes, before Doctor Nalder decided to call it. The nurse let out a soft sob, but Bones refused to give up. Eventually, Nalder pulled Bones’ hands away.

“Leonard, stop. He’s gone.” He resisted at first, but he finally accepted defeat.

“Dammit,” he whispered.

“You did everything you could. And he was at peace in the end, thanks to the comfort you gave him. I see your genius hasn’t had a negative effect on your bedside manner - it’s truly admirable.” Nalder gave Bones’ shoulder a comforting squeeze as the nurse pulled the blanket over the child’s face.

“Before I joined Starfleet, I was a paediatrician. It was a rewarding line of work, but each death was tougher than the last. It became impossible when I became a father myself, so I retrained as a trauma surgeon. Joanna - my daughter - is about the same age as Raphael. I just couldn’t let him suffer alone.” Nalder nodded in understanding. Bones wasn’t sure why he had been so willing to open up to someone he barely knew, but saying things out loud made the current situation a little less harrowing. Taking a sharp inhale, he turned away from the tragic sight and turned back to Nalder.

“We have work to do. Continue talking to the patients and I’ll start from the other end of the room. Take as many notes as you can, and we’ll reconvene later.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The interview process took little under an hour. The two men met at the room’s entrance and sent their respective notes to the other’s device. Before they could compare findings, they were interrupted by the shouts of one of the nurses.

“Sir, please calm down!” she cried. Bones turned to see a few of the nurses cautiously crowding around a male patient, who had somehow managed to pull himself to his feet. He was slightly hunched forward, with legs wide apart, arms stretched out in front of him, and his head darting from side to side, suspiciously eyeing up the nurses. His once deep-aqua skin had paled to a sickening grayish hue, with a thick layer of sweat glistening under the harsh lights of the ward. However, it was the scalpel grasped in the patient’s right hand that attracted everyone’s attention. He screamed at the staff and other patients, convinced that they were trying to kill him. Should anyone attempt to approach him, he would thrust his hand forward and threaten to stab them.

“I’m not dying here, I don’t want your poison!” he wailed, tearing out the IV line in his arm despite protests from the staff.

“Delirium,” Nalder whispered. “I thought he seemed a bit off during our interview.”

“What do we do?” Bones whispered back. “I’m guessing you don’t have a security team for isolation. We gotta take him down without causing him injury, or more importantly, without him injuring anyone else.”

“I’m going to retrieve a sedative from the unit to my right here. Then, I’ll sneak up behind him and inject him. I need you to keep him distracted and make sure that he doesn’t notice me. Think you can do that?”

“It’s too risky!”

“Got any better ideas?” Bones opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again. He had no alternative solution, he just didn’t want Nalder to put himself in jeopardy. Normally, he would have offered to take Nalder’s place. However, he was still unfamiliar with the appropriate medications and dosages to use on Andorians, not to mention having no clue where they kept their drugs. The risk to the patient was too high, so he resigned himself to Nalder’s plan.

“Alright, fine. But be careful.” Bones turned away from his colleague and faced the patient, easing his way forward.

“Now then, what seems to be the problem?” he bellowed, approaching the group of nurses surrounding the patient. “Sir, you are not well, you should be in bed.” He spoke loudly and harshly, ensuring that the patient would focus his attention on him. 

“Ha, so you can all poison me? Not likely,” the patient spat, glaring manically at Bones. 

“No one is trying to poison you, sir. We are just trying to help you. Please just drop the scalpel and we can talk about this.” 

“Not happening.” As they argued, Bones continued to walk slowly to the patient’s left side, although still maintaining a significant distance between them both. Fortunately, the patient was entirely focused on Bones and followed his movements, his back now toward Nalder. Nalder finally had the opportunity to move and retrieve the sedative, so Bones just had to keep him distracted for another minute or two. 

“Alright, I can see that you are scared,” he softened his tone a little, but still maintained a high volume. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? Why do you think someone is trying to kill you?” The man lowered his arm a little and proceeded to list the “evidence” for this murderous plot. He rambled for a couple of minutes, barely pausing to take a breath. Bones kept his eyes fixed on him the whole time, ensuring that the patient retained his focus away from Nalder. In his periphery, Bones could just see an arm slowly rising above the patient’s shoulder, and knew Nalder was about to inject the sedative. 

“For the love of God, sedate him already!” a panicked nurse screeched. Bones could have sworn his heart dropped to his stomach, as the patient swung around to face Nalder. 

“You were going to poison me!” he shrieked. Before Nalder could respond, the patient lunged at him and the two fell to the floor. His initial shock cleared instantly as Bones rushed towards the two men. Nalder was struggling to hold the man off as his arms flailed in an attempt to stab the doctor. In the struggle, he let out a yelp and dropped the hypo, just as Bones reached them. Bones grabbed ahold of the man’s wrists, and used his knees to pin down his legs. As the patient struggled to get free, Nalder swiftly retrieved the hypo and injected it into his neck - receiving a generous spraying of saliva from the spitting patient. Within moments, the delirious man went limp in Bones’ arms, and the two doctors were able to free themselves.

“Get him back into bed, and get some restraints on him,” Bones ordered the shaken nurses, who obeyed without word. 

“You!” Nalder hissed at one of them, who had been cowering behind the now dispersed crowd. “We almost had him sedated without incident. Thanks to you, I, Doctor McCoy and everyone else in here could have been killed. What the Hell were you thinking?!” 

“I-I-I’m sorry Doctor!” the young nurse stammered, backing away from the livid doctor. “I panicked, I just wanted it to be over!”

“Well I can assure you young man, it’s over now. You will not be returning to this ward, and I will be reporting you to your supervisor. Get the Hell out of my sight!” trembling, the nurse nodded and exited the ward. Nalder stormed over to the patient’s bed to make sure that he was appropriately restrained. Satisfied, he ordered the nurses to reassure the other patients and keep an eye out for further developments.

“Well Doctor McCoy, I think that’s enough excitement for one night. Shall we go?” 

“I think that would be best.” 

Leaving the nurses to settle the patients and the orderlies to clear up, Bones solemnly followed Nalder out of the ward.

“What I want to know is, how the Hell did the patient get ahold of the damn scalpel anyway?” Nalder growled as they entered the decontamination suite. Bones wondered that too, but decided that his host was too stressed and pissed-off to worry about that now. He merely shrugged and focused on removing each item of protective clothing, washing his hands thoroughly after each step. After the final step of removing their respirators and another hand wash, both men sprayed each other down with disinfectant spray before entering the “clean zone”, washing their hands one final time. Bones noted that Nalder seemed to be extra vigorous when cleaning his left hand.

“Your hand Ok?” Bones questioned.

“Fine,” Nalder replied bluntly, a little too quickly for Bones’ liking. He decided not to push it, not wanting to sour the man’s mood further.

“Right. Well, I think we’ve found a potential connection between the patients. I’d say around half all work in the same office building. I’ll need to look through these interviews more thoroughly, but I reckon if we create a relationship tree for every patient, it will lead to an employee at this firm. I’d like to visit this place and see if I can identify the source. You gonna come with?”

“Definitely. I wouldn’t let you go alone - despite our people being at peace for a while, there are those in Andoria who hate humans and any member of Starfleet. Ambassador Shras has told me a thing or two about young Captain Kirk, and I’d hate to face him if I let anything happen to his CMO.” Bones grinned, amused at Jim’s reputation.

“Smart thinking. He’s not a man to be messed with. So, shall we go?”

“It’s getting late, Leonard. Local businesses will be closed, and my shift is about to finish. Why don’t you call it a day and we can reconvene tomorrow morning?”  
“Guess I lost track of time. I have a couple of things I want to do in the lab first, but I’ll head straight to the hotel afterwards. Mind letting me into the lab?”

“I’ve arranged for you to get a temporary ID to allow you access throughout the hospital. You can pick it up at reception. Means you can get around without needing me to escort you everywhere.”

“Ah, perfect. In that case, I’ll let you head off for the day. Shall we meet at reception at, say, 08.30 tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow Leonard, have a good night,” with a wave, Doctor Nalder made his exit to clock out for the day. Picking up his notes and donning his snowsuit once more, Bones soon followed and made his way to the main hospital.


End file.
